


Don't Look Back

by ArsenicHazard



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Big Rico's Pizza, Gen, Lost - Freeform, Podcast, forest, missing person, shrubbery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:54:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22624387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArsenicHazard/pseuds/ArsenicHazard
Summary: A new visitor comes to Night Vale. What does it want?(Originally written for Inktober 2016)
Relationships: Carlos/Cecil Palmer
Kudos: 9





	Don't Look Back

The night is full, the sky is yelling, and the ground underneath the desert quakes under the sheer force of the oblivion.

Welcome, to **Night Vale**.

. . .

 _Good evening, listeners_ . You may have all noticed the frequent _shrubs_ that have settled into our little town recently. They are small, blueish purple, and let off a small **garbling** sound when someone nears them. They _seem_ to cause no harm, and in the same way we welcome _any_ new residents, we are expected to greet these shrubs with open arms, wild hand gestures and **fire** . The Sheriff’s secret police claim that the shrubs are friendly, and are doing wonders to the atmosphere. Scientist Chelsea Dubinski has noted the amount of **oxygen** around town has increased dramatically; with the exception of the _dog park_ , and _nonexistent_ swing set behind the cemetery.

Speaking of **scientists** , _guess who called yesterday afternoon_?

**Carlos!**

He called me, rambling on about something to do with the vegetation. Oh, I just couldn’t _hear_ what he was talking about, listeners. His voice was too **silky** , and each word seemed to run up my spine like a cockroach finding a home for winter. He said ‘I think the garbling is a language, Cecil’, and I replied with a _dreamy_ ‘mmhmmm? Go onnn?’

He went on about trying to **record** the shrub sounds, and I- well I said… ‘Neat.’ He said ‘I want to meet up with you after I record it, see if I can get your input on what they are trying to say.’

Can you believe it, Night Vale? He wants to _meet up_ . For a **date**!

. . .

Mayor Pamela Winchell has announced that the **civilization** underneath the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex seems to have quieted down. ‘No,’ she says, her voice wavering into a microphone, ‘they were never _rowdy_ to begin with, but we definitely feel that the urge to cause inter-desert **warfare** has lessened.’

This is great news to all citizens who have not purchased a pitchfork _solely_ for this reason, and are hoping to save money on weaponry for the (now postponed) impending battle.

The mayor continued by saying that ‘this does not mean the civilization is _friendly_ , but that the military stationed outside the complex will no longer interfere with the ball retrieval section in the alley.

I believe that this should not be taken as an order to be nice to the civilization, but rather a _suggestion_. I still believe that the secret society is hostile, and we should all prepare for war when they strike.

. . .

Now, ladies and gentleman, the **traffic.**

All road signs leading out of Night Vale have mysteriously changed to _red_ , and do not seem to be changing back any time soon. John Peters, you know, _the farmer_ , said he had first noticed the change last week, Wednesday, he believes, and has checked back regularly ever since. They have not changed back from red. 

I believe this may have something to do with the **shrubs** , listeners. Ever since they have entered, _no one_ has been able to leave. Is this some sort of _business_ tactic of theirs? Are they trying to _sell_ their products without any negative reviews? And will we ever know _why_ road workers are never seen on the streets and yet road work is _done_???

Let’s find out by going to-

**The Weather.**

. . .

Follow-up news on the shrubs –they seem to thoroughly enjoy Big Rico’s pizza. I mean, not that that is very _surprising_ . This very broadcast is sponsored by Big Rico. _Nobody_ does a slice like Big Rico.

**Nobody.**

However, what _is_ peculiar is the nature of their adoration. The shrubs only grow from the cracks around the entrance of his pizza place, garbling **excitedly** (or at least, I think it is excitement) at the door. They never enter the shop, but they defend their mark by the door way, not letting _anyone_ through for a slice of pizza.

The greenery is _still_ growing as I speak, Night Vale, and it doesn’t appear to be slowing any time soon. I fear we may be _without Big Rico’s pizza_ until this situation can be taken care of. I have sent in intern **Dana** to check out the expanding forest, I can only hope she follows the regulatory procedure for walking in the woods. It is **universal knowledge** to never look behind you; once you do, you will _never be able to stop._ The feeling will follow you, and soon you will _hope_ there is something behind you. Listeners, you _never_ want to hope for that.

. . .

Dana just called me, I could barely hear her over the **noise** in the forest. The garbling has turned into full on **screaming** . She said that she has not stopped on her path towards Big Rico’s, despite the multitudes of _eyes_ on her from all the shrubs at her ankles and trees sprouting up in her path. I made sure to ask if she had not turned around.

There was a pause on her end before she admitted to doing _just that_.

To the family of intern Dana, we send our **condolences**.


End file.
